


Employee of the Month

by Klioud



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, An Attempt at Writing Comedy Was Made™, Comedy, Crushes, Flirting, Love, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klioud/pseuds/Klioud
Summary: Coffee Shop AU.God Serena is going to be Employee of the Month.Or: two narcissistic men meet in a coffee shop.This customer is everything he wishes he could be, just in a disgusting shade of Murder-Me-Monotony.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KakiTenshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KakiTenshi/gifts).



> Honestly, what am I supposed to say about this?

Employee of the Month is a sham.

God Serena knows this on one level. It is the carrot to the stick of labour. It is a malformed and stale one too. It hardly costs Alavarez's administration anything to implement it. There is no bonus pay. Or any special privileges that come with the title. But there is one reward: God Serena gets to go to work five days a week and gaze at his own portrait from across the room. That alone makes the toil all worthwhile.

He also likes to think that he is getting more bang for his buck. His professionally-done headshots had been professionally-expensive. Now they get attached to more than just his acting resumes. They get attached to the wall in this musty but somehow still classy coffee shop. God Serena gets to switch out his Employee of the Month portrait with another shot every month. 

The added bonus is that he also gets to keep that asshat Larcade's too-serene mug out of that cheaply gilded frame. In April, he had lost the title to the owner's (apparently) least-favourite relative. That had been a cold and truly torturous month. His tenacity had been tested nearly to the breaking point. God Serena nearly forgot that EotM would be awarded again in May. That thought alone had kept him from tossing Larcade's portrait into the nearest dumpster. Or improving it via marker.

It is now August. This will be month four in God Serena's winning streak. He is not going to let go of this month for anyone or anything. 

Except maybe for an honest-to-goodness acting role. Scratch that. He _definitely_ would for a decent role. 

The daily grind begins. The first two hours after opening are slow. People trickle in and out. Then hour three hits. The patrons form a line that goes out the door. Neinhart's outdone himself lately when it comes to advertising. God Serena likes to think his face also improves the aesthetic sensibilities of Alvarez Coffee.

Today he is blessed: Brandish is working.

She is notoriously awful at her job. In comparison, he shines. Much like a star. Brandish has a tendency to screw up orders and back-sass irritatedpatrons. God Serena does not know how she manages to keep her job. He is just glad that she does. It means he gets to swoop in and be the customer's knight-in-shining-apron. It means that their manager Invel gives him _that_ look: the blank one he gives every single one of his employees. But his manager gives it to him with a nod. So he knows he is on the right track.

That look means another one of his portraits will be put up on the wall.

Brandish manages the register while God Serena takes care of the beverages. Brandish writes the customer's name on the cup. Then she repeats the customers' orders to him. More often than not, she has it wrong. So he has learned to listen in on the patrons themselves.

Someone orders sprinkles on their hot chocolate and whipped cream.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Brandish pressing her fingertips into her face. She hates it when he does this. He knows that. This is just another example of why she could never become Employee of the Month.

He picks up the sprinkles shaker. Then he throws his hands up into the air. His arms sweep through a series of irregular arcs. He adds a few quick jabbing motions in for good measure. This catches the eyes of the closest customers.

“Did somebody... order sprinkles!” He knows it does not sound like a question. That would be because it really is not one.

God Serena swings his arms around. He twists his torso from side to side. Then he finally shakes the sprinkles out onto the bed of whipped cream crowning the beverage. The colours are just delightful! But it could stand a few more shakes. With a wink to the customer, he adds as many sprinkles much as he feels he should to their drink. Now it looks good. God Serena places the drink on the pick-up counter. 

The patron has an odd expression on her face when she picks it up. He cannot quite place his finger on it. It must be somewhere in the neighbourhood of amusement. Or delight. It has to be.

“Seriously?” Brandish says, grabbing him by the arm. “Move over.”

They trade places. Brandish works at a much slower pace than he does. God Serena does his best to swallow a laugh when a customer jabs a finger at his drink.

“This isn't what I ordered,” he says. Brandish just shrugs.

“Talk to management.”

Now is his time to shine. He taps Brandish on her right shoulder and slips by her left. Brandish slides back over to the register without complaint. As quickly as he possibly can without sacrificing quality, God Serena puts together the correct drink. 

Then another with-sprinkles order comes up. Brandish pulls him over to the register and gives him _that_ look: the blank one she gives every single one of her co-workers. But she gives it to him with a shake of her head. So he knows he is on the right track.

The line thins considerably by the fourth hour. Most of their patrons have already left. There is only a single digit number of customers inside the shop.

That is when his eyes find that one customer: the one that is very _in particular_.

This customer is impeccably dressed. He might even look a little too extravagant. That pisses God Serena right off. It is the exact amount of extravagant he aspires to in his daily life. But this man ruins it all by dressing drearily: he wears only drab shades of black, blue, and purple. He always does. At least, this customer has every time he has come to Alvarez Coffee. 

To make matters worse, his hair is luscious and long. God Serena will not admit it. He cannot admit it.

It is better than his own.

He hates how it is more voluminous than his own. How much better a sheen it has. To his eye, there is minimal breakage. That gorgeous head of hair frames his perfectly-sculpted face with his perfectly-clear skin. 

This customer is everything he wishes he could be, just in a disgusting shade of Murder-Me-Monotony. 

He watches as the customer taps away on his smartphone. He moves forward in the dwindling line without looking up.

Sometimes, this customer is on his phone while he places his order. It is excruciating when he does this. The man speaks to whoever is on the other line and to God Serena at the same time. Then there are times when the man will not even look up from his phone as he orders. He hates the sound of the _tap, tap, tap_ the customer's keyboard makes. There has got to be a setting to turn that off; he wishes this customer would use it.

The worst thing is that this man is now a _regular_. For the last month, he has shown up every day that God Serena has worked. If he comes on the weekends too, God Serena does not know. 

This time he is treated to the texting-and-ordering-at-the-same-time experience. His drink is always the same too: some complicated, elitist-sounding mess that God Serena would definitely order for himself. Except for the last bit.

The man orders sprinkles. But not just any sprinkles.

The drab chocolate kind.

God Serena refuses to perform his sprinkles dance for this heathen. That was how this customer became _in particular_ in the first place: God Serena had made an exception and danced while shaking out chocolate sprinkles. And the man did not look up from his phone once.

It had been humiliating. None of his botched auditions had ever been so distressing. Only, that might be because all his botched auditions had been rigged against him in the first place. This had been different. Somehow.

He really cannot explain why.

“Name,” he asks.

“Mard Geer,” the man says. The customer does not spare him a single glance as he drops the exact amount of cash on the counter.

“It'll be ready in a minute,” God Serena says. He picks up a cup and a marker.

Ever since that first humiliating day, God Serena has tried to get back at him. He has tried just slightly misspelling his name (but really, what kind of name is Mard Geer anyways?) to no results. 

God Serena has had enough of subtlety.

But then he catches a glimpse of his own stunning eyes from across the room. Catches sight of his cutting-edge hairstyle. His timeless and seductive smile. And he catches sight of the plaque underneath his gorgeous portrait that reads _Employee of the Month._

One cup. Just this one. Even if the customer might complain, it is just one single complaint. If complaints really mattered, Brandish would be barred from Alvarez by now. There is also the chance the customer will not take the time to complain.

There is also the chance Mard Geer will not even read the side of his cup.

God Serena uncaps the marker. It will be worth it either way.

He hands the cup off to Brandish. The customer moves out of the way and over to the pick-up counter. More patrons arrive at the register. God Serena does his best to divide his attention between their orders and Mard Geer. He more than manages it. God Serena is really just that good.

Employees are supposed to read the name off of the cup as they place it down on the pick-up counter. Only Brandish does not do that. Instead, she just thunks them down onto the counter without any kind of fanfare. Brandish is an expert at wasting opportunities. It is just yet another example of why she could never become Employee of the Month.

So he knows he has to wait to see if the man will inspect the name himself. His drink is not the only large. So Mard Geer should check the name. He has to check the name!

Brandish plunks another drink down. The man picks it up without glancing at the side. Something inside God Serena deflates. He watches as the man fits a lid onto his drink. Watches as he slides over to the separate counter where they keep the plugs, sweeteners, and napkins.

“Hello?” someone says from right in front of him. A customer, maybe. They sound annoyed.

“Hold on,” God Serena says before he can stop himself.

Mard Geer grabs a plug for the lid. Then he wraps a napkin around the sleeve of the cup. He is being ignored. Again.

But then a miracle occurs.

“Mardy Bum,” Brandish says in the most disinterested tone he has ever heard from her. She slams a cup down. Another large.

His customer turns around. Lifting his drink to eye level, he inspects the name. Then his lips make an interesting shape. Something like an _oh._ But more like an _oouuhhh._

The man steps back over to the counter. He exchanges cups and glances at the name.

The man says something. God Serena thinks he might have said _really?_ It is hard to say. It is harder to think. The man's gaze holds his own. His heart quickens.

It takes him a few seconds to collect himself. Raising a hand to frame the side of his face, God Serena flashes Mard Geer the absolute best headshot-smile he can muster at the moment.

“Really.”

Mard Geer's pencil-thin eyebrows raise. Just slightly. Then he glances at the side of the cup again. His eyebrows raise a little more. The corners of his mouth do too. 

“Maybe,” Mard Geer says. Then he raises his cup to him. It makes God Serena blink hard. There is something really brilliant about his expression. It almost explains the dull wardrobe: he is bright enough already. 

Only once Mard Geer is out of Alvarez and out of sight does God Serena remember he is supposed to be manning the register. He turns back to apologize. But the customer is gone.

Brandish shrugs.

“Got pissed off,” she says. “Just left.”

Two complaints now. Or maybe just the one. Mard Geer's reaction had not been what he thought it would be.

“I'm glad that's over with,” Brandish says. Lazily, she stretches her arms over her head. Yawns. “I guess sometimes it's good to make an effort.”

There is no disguising his confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He can feel a smirk creeping onto his face. “You did the bare minimum. Less than the bare minimum. Like always.”

“I got you a date, didn't I?” Brandish says. She tugs at her apron disinterestedly. 

His smirk disappears as fast as it came on.

“What?”

“You've been flirting with that guy since he first came here,” Brandish says. “It was getting really boring to watch, so I did us both a favour and added your phone number to the cup.”

Those graceful arches of his eyebrows. The way his lips had just barely turned into a smile. Now it made sense.

He was not going to let go of this month for anyone or anything, bar a good acting job. Scratch that. Murdering Brandish is the only other exception to this rule.

* * *

God Serena will never admit this: he kept his phone with him at all times that evening. He could not even wait until the second ring before he picked up the phone. But this phone call made all that toiling worthwhile.


End file.
